


likewise

by castielanderson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Depression, Episode: s10e03 Mulder & Scully Meet the Were-Monster, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder returns to Scully after shaking hands with lizard-form Guy Mann.  He's pretty shaken up about what he's learned about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	likewise

He finds Scully back at the motel - the nice motel, the one without wood-paneled walls and peephole taxidermy animal heads.  She's shimmied out of her blazer and untucked her blouse from her skirt.  She sits perched on the edge of the bed, massaging her feet over her pantyhose.  Mulder isn't really sure why he's in her room.  Part of him supposes he's here to tell her where he went when he dashed away.  The thing is - he doesn't really want to talk about it.  Maybe it's the healthy part of his brain that's dragged him here against his will.  He should talk to Scully.  She would want to know.

"Mulder?" he hears, and as he meets her gaze, he realizes she's probably said his name a couple times already.

He gives himself a shake and rubs awkwardly at his sore eyes.  "Sorry.  I - I'm a little distracted."  Still unwaveringly not present, he collapses into the armchair next to her bed.

"What were you just doing?" she asks, and Mulder pulls himself together long enough to answer the question.  Vaguely, of course.

"I went to see the innocent suspect I've been pursuing.   Um, - I thanked him for the help."

Scully shifts her weight, leans forward a little and tries to get a look at his eyes.  "Mulder, what's wrong?"

He scratches his head and shrugs.  "I just - it's been a weird case."

Scully nods slowly.  "Usually, that tends to be your thing, Mulder."

He gives a dry laugh, forces a painful smile.

"I asked you before," Scully continues, "but have you been taking your meds?"

Mulder nods.  "Yeah, yeah, I have.  Every day.  I don't - I don't know how well they're working."

"You just started them again," Scully reminds him.  "It'll take awhile, even with the up in dosage.  And day-drinking doesn't help," she adds.

Mulder sighs, heavily.  Taking medication goes against everything he stands for.  He has absolutely no trust in the psychology community, in doctors, or in the pharmaceutical industry.  He's only taking anti-depressants because he knows it will keep Scully sane.  Even if they don't work, even if he isn't getting enough sleep and his appetite has only decreased to the point of being nonexistent, at least Scully will feel better that he's trying.  And honestly, he needed to make a change.  He hasn't told Scully about the suicide attempt yet, but he figures she knows somewhere deep down, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his need to start communicating regularly again.

His silence and inward spiraling is interrupted by Scully saying softly, "Talk to me, Mulder.  Tell me what's going on."

He leans his head back and pulls at his hair.  "I don't even know how to explain it," he admits as he relaxes again and meets her eyes.  "I left him feeling hopeful - grateful, even, but at the same time - I just can't avoid myself anymore."

Scully stares at him, eyebrows creased together with both worry and confusion.  Mulder coughs awkwardly and stares down at his lap as he begins playing with his fingers.

"My suspect over-confided in me.  He told me - told me a lot of personal details of the life he's been living in the last week, and I - I couldn't help but see myself in him."

Scully leans forward, as much as the bed will let her, and places her hand on his knee.  "What parts of yourself did you see?" she asks.  It's a terrifying question, but her voice is soothing.  The motion of her thumb rubbing circles on leg pulls the information out of him, although it doesn't come out smooth.

"He was miserable, Scully," he all but whispers, throat tight.  "He told me about hating his job, about hating himself, about feeling lonely and hopeless and helpless.  I mean - he was having an existential crisis on the surface, but isn't that just what depression is?  A prolonged existential crisis?"  He laughs at himself, bitter and cynical.

"Oh, Mulder," Scully sighs, and she gives his knee a squeeze.

Mulder keeps his gaze fixated in his lap. 

"He wanted to die, Scully.  He asked me to kill him."

Mulder can barely hear it, but Scully sucks a breath in.  Her fingers go tense against the fabric of his pants.

"I guess - I guess I haven't realized how bad I actually feel." He swallows hard, nearly choking on his own Adam's apple.  "I mean - I know I'm not thrilled to be alive.  I know that I've - I've actually wanted to die for a long time, but the - the _desperation_ he exhibited.  I hadn't realized how desperate I feel for relief too."  He chokes on his breath and fizzles into silence.  He could say more; there's a lot banging around in his head, but it's too much.  Even though he's been experiencing it for most of life, Mulder has never, ever even remotely appreciated talking about how truthfully suicidal he is.

He starts to hiccup, which prompts Scully to pull herself up from the bed.  She leans down in front of him and with gentle fingers, wipes the tears from his cheeks.  He starts; he hadn't yet processed the burning in his eyes as crying.

"Mulder," she whispers shakily, and a look at her face shows him that she's got tears in her eyes too, "you're not going to feel like this forever."

He starts to shake his head, but stops.  "It's been a long time, Scully."

"I know," she croaks.  "I know."

"I'm so tired, Scully," he chokes out.  "I'm middle-aged, and I'm - exhausted."

"I know you are, Mulder," she says, voice growing stronger.  "But don't forget - this is the first time you're taking treatment seriously.  This is the first time you've actually started taking care of yourself mentally - and all without me.  It may be a little late in your life, but you still have plenty of time to be happy."

He nods.  And then breaks.  His breath starts catching and little sobs start bursting out of his mouth and he just buries his face in Scully's chest.  She holds his head softly, strokes his scalp and smoothes his hair.  He started this alone, that's true, but he's starting to realize he doesn't have to continue doing it alone.

"I'm here, Mulder," she confirms.  "I'm right here."


End file.
